


Bradley James' Top Five Greatest Fears

by ems



Category: Merlin (BBC) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-27
Updated: 2010-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:13:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ems/pseuds/ems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bradley James faces his second greatest fear of all time (and no, it's not Katie McGrath's luminous purple cocktail, although that is pretty scary).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bradley James' Top Five Greatest Fears

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** RPS is wrong, kids. And I don't own Colin or Bradley - they just own my soul.  
>  **Author's Notes:** An awful lot of alcohol is consumed in this fic. ~~An awful lot was consumed whilst writing it, too.~~

Bradley has many habits with which he torments the cast and crew of _Merlin_ , ranging from the mildly irritating -- his habit of drawling everyone's surnames disparagingly when mocking them -- to the truly infuriating -- a boyish love of pranks which absolutely refuses to be quashed, not even by occasional tears (Angel) or near-constant death glares (Katie) or raised eyebrows of disapproval (Richard). His insistence on demanding Top Five lists from people at all times falls somewhere in the middle, and Bradley knows this, but it's something he can't help. He has always thought in terms of Top Five lists, and can't really understand people who aren't mentally rearranging the order of their Top Five Hit Singles By One-Hit Wonders Of The Nineties at all times. And so it's only natural, really, that right at this moment, rather than doing something useful, he is sitting in the dark listing his Top Five Greatest Fears.

At number five, a classic -- spiders. He doesn't _hate_ spiders, he can deal with them, but he'd really prefer not to. Especially if they're the kind with the big bodies. Ugh. At four, stage fright. He hasn't actually ever got stage fright but he has a fear of one day _getting_ stage fright, which he once drunkenly confessed to Tony, hoping for some words of wisdom, but instead Tony had looked at him like he was mad and bought him another tequila. Number three, clowns, which are frankly _terrifying_ \-- he has never been able to understand why small children are expected to laugh at them when they're clearly minions of the devil.

Number one, his greatest fear, he doesn't like to talk about -- doesn't even really like to put into words, which is why he refuses to even mentally list it -- but number two, which is almost as significant and definitely less rational, is an overwhelming fear of the dark.

Which is why the fact that the power has just gone out is somewhat of a problem.

* * *

Colin is in the shower when the lights go off, which is unfortunate, as he discovers it is nigh on impossible to negotiate your way out of the shower and to the bed in the pitch black. By the time he gets there he has stubbed his toe on the door frame ( _"bollocks...!"_ ) bashed his thigh on the dresser ( _fffu... ow!_ ), and toppled, face-first, onto the bed after tripping over a discarded trainer. All for nothing, too, as the phone on his bedside table is dead, meaning he can't even call the hotel reception to find out what's going on. He sits on the edge of the mattress, rubbing his bruised thigh absently as he attempts to formulate a plan. He reaches for his mobile phone and opens it, the light casting a blue glow that eerily illuminates his face in the mirror, all sharp angles and shadowy hollows. He's about to call the girls to make sure they're alright when his phone rings, startling him in the darkness. He knows immediately from the ringtone ( _... make a noise and make it clear... wo-o-oah...!_ ) who it is, and he looks down to find Bradley's [ridiculous face](http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y98/Kayvee/LiveJournal/icons/challenge/merlinicons100/batch100BJ/016_face_bygealach-ros.png) (uploaded by Colin in revenge for Bradley changing his ringtone and refusing to tell him how to change it back to something less embarrassing) squinting up at him. He presses the answer button.

"Bradley?" he says, into the inky black.

"Cols," Bradley says. He sounds unusually quiet. "Er... is your power off?"

"Yeah, all dark here." Colin replies.

"D'you think the girls are alright?"

"I was just about to ring them when you called."

"We should go and find out." Bradley says, decisively.

"Yeah, okay," Colin says, groping for his towel. He scrubs at his hair. "Just give me a couple of minutes to get dressed, I was in the-" He realises the line has gone dead, and shakes his head. One of Bradley's many baffling quirks -- never ending a phone conversation with an actual goodbye. Less annoying than his habit of phoning at the most awkward times, mind -- when Colin's getting off a train, juggling two suitcases and a coffee, or in the middle of filming, or -- worst of all -- just as his only successful date in ages was getting interesting.

He's just pulling on his jeans when there's a knock at his door. "Colin?" comes a voice from behind the door.

"For crying out loud, James." Colin mutters, pulling a hoody on as he opens the door. The hallway is dimly lit by the full moon peering in through the row of windows. Bradley looks pale and nervous and immediately shoves his way into Colin's room.

Colin looks after him, puzzled. "Er... you alright, Bradley?"

"What? Um... fine. Yes. Let's just go and make sure the girls are okay and find out what's going on." Bradley is holding his mobile up in front of him like a torch. "God, this thing. Hardly even bloody _glows_." He shakes it furiously. "I can't see a fucking th- fuck!" The phone flies out of his hand and skitters across the floor.

"Bradley!" Colin says, reaching a hand out to Bradley's shoulder. The muscles are incredibly tense. "What's going on? Are you -- do you not like the dark?"

There's silence for a few seconds. "Not... _especially_." Bradley says, sounding small. "I mean, I'm not _scared_ of it, or anything," he blusters, "I would just rather be able to... see where I'm... going..." he trails off, lamely.

Colin is grateful that the darkness hides the small smile he can't resist. Usually it's Bradley chasing everyone else around with the things they're scared of -- rubber snakes, dead fish, books with broken spines (yeah, Katie is a bit weird). It's unlike Bradley to be visibly scared of anything, which makes this both mildly amusing and slightly sad. "Hang on," he says, squeezing Bradley's shoulder, "I've got some candles around here somewhere." He scrabbles in his bedside drawer for them and locates his lighter in the pocket of his jeans.

"Candles, Morgan?" Bradley's voice still sounds a little shaky, but stronger than before. "Hoping to be romancing someone, were we?"

Colin scowls and thrusts a lit candle towards Bradley. "I'll thank you to remember that without me you'd still be flapping around in the dark like an idiot." he says, shielding the flame of his own candle with a cupped hand. Bradley grins, spirits apparently bolstered by the light, and bounces towards the door.

"Come on then, Morgan! Let's go rescue the damsels in distress!"

Colin rolls his eyes heavenward at Bradley's retreating back. "Hope his bloody candle blows out." he mutters under his breath.

* * *

They reach Angel's room first and Bradley thumps on the door in a way he hopes is very brave and manly. He's not particularly happy that Colin got his fear of the dark out of him, so he's determined to be extra chirpy to try and downplay it. There's no answer from inside Angel's room which causes a small lump of panic to bubble uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, but Colin, seemingly sensing his anxiety, reassures him that Angel has probably gone to find out what's going on. It's so _annoying_ , Bradley thinks, how Colin always seems to know when he's uncomfortable; like the first time they rode horses and Bradley was shitting himself and Colin (who had known him for what, all of two months?) leant over and said, wisely, "Y'know, they're more scared of you than you are of them." and Bradley had gone "I'm not scared of a bloody _horse_ , Morgan" and Colin had grinned and said "Course you're not." in that smug way of his. Glowering, Bradley stalks off towards Katie's room when all of a sudden he sees a dark shadow around the corner and before he can stop himself slams into something -- or someone -- tall and solid.

In the weeks to follow, Colin will describe Bradley's shriek of terror as _girly_ , which Bradley will think is rather unkind, and fairly inaccurate -- it was, he will insist, a manly cry of warning -- but at this moment, he is too petrified to worry what Colin will think of him. "Get off!" he yelps, backing away rapidly.

"Bradley?" comes a voice from the shadowy gloom.

Bradley -- clutching onto Colin's arm purely to protect him, naturally -- peers into the darkness. A familiar face beams back at him. "Oh," Bradley says, a combination of relief and embarrassment flooding over him. "Tony." He feels Colin stifling a laugh at his side and he digs his elbow into his ribs viciously.

Tony claps a hand on Bradley's shoulder. "Sorry for giving you a fright," he says, cheerfully. "Bit of a pain, this, eh? I was just on my way to reception to speak to someone."

"We'll come with you," Colin says, "just want to knock for Katie on the way." Tony nods, and the three of them traipse down the corridor towards Katie's room. Her door is ajar and there's a soft glow. Bradley puts out a hand to still Tony and and Colin, who exchange weary glances. Bradley flings the door open dramatically and intones "We've come to rescue you, Miss McGrath!" in his best Patrick Stewart impression.

He is greeted not by Katie, but by Angel, who is cross-legged on the bed in blue cloud-covered pyjamas, reading a magazine by the soft light of the candles dotted around the room. "Hello Bradley," she says, flicking through the pages without looking up. Colin flops onto the bed next to her and she idly reaches out a hand to stroke through his hair. Bradley feels a flash of irritation and a small voice in his head that says _mine_. (He ignores it. As usual.) "Where's Katie?" he demands.

Angel thumbs in the direction of the bathroom. The door's open and Bradley can just make out Katie's head emerging from the bath, surrounded by bubbles. "Oh," he says, feeling suddenly awkward. "Hello Katie." He waves, lamely.

"Pervert." she says, mildly, dipping her head under the water.

Colin huffs a laugh which Bradley silences with a glare in his direction. "Can it, Morgan." he hisses, attempting to ignore Colin's answering smirk.

Angel rolls her eyes and throws her magazine in Bradley's direction. "For heaven's sake, Bradley." She bounces off the bed and shuts the bathroom door.

Tony, still standing in the hallway, looks amused. "We're heading down to reception, Angel, to find out what's happened."

"Good plan," Katie calls from through the door. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be with you." Moments later she emerges, wrapped in a soft burgundy dressing gown, her long hair bundled in a towel and piled on top of her head. Bradley tries not to think about the fact that she's naked underneath the gown. Katie always makes him feel like he's seven again, caught peeping into the girls' changing room.

"Right." Bradley says, clapping his hands together. "Shall we?"

* * *

When they reach reception, there's nobody to be seen apart from Richard and a couple of crew members who are propping up the bar, illuminated by half a dozen gas lanterns. Richard, Colin notes, is wearing Superman slippers, and he flashes a grin in his direction. "Where's your Y-fronts?" he says, indicating Richard's choice of footwear with a nod. Richard frowns, but his eyes sparkle. "Insolent boy," he chuckles, and waves his hand in the direction of the sofas. "Sit down -- reception have gone to find out how long the power will be out, and it's a free bar until then." He clinks glasses with Mick, the camera man sat next to him, and downs what looks suspiciously like neat whiskey.

"Ooh, free bar." Angel eyes the rows of bottles. "Do we just help ourselves?"

"You most certainly do not," Katie says, shaking her head so her curls tumble magnificently across her shoulders. "I'll be on bar duty this evening." Colin watches, open-mouthed, as she pulls a perfect pint and slides it down the bar to Tony. "What?" she says, eyeing their open mouths. "I worked in Australia for a year while I was travelling."

"That, and she's Irish," Colin smirks. "It's in the blood."

Katie grins and throws a peanut at him. "And for you, sir?" A few expert ministrations later and Colin is sitting on the sofa, nursing a ridiculously strong gin and tonic and flicking through a magazine with Angel, who is in the midst of planning her sister's wedding and is constantly asking for Colin's opinions on dresses and flowers and centrepieces. "Me being gay doesn't automatically make me a _wedding planner_ , Angel," he had said, rolling his eyes, when she first mentioned it few months ago. She had looked at him in astonishment. "No, Colin, but you being _you_ makes you the only person nice enough to actually _listen_." He had felt so horrible for misjudging her that he now feels bound to show willing and so has spent many hours between takes discussing the relative merits of bottle green versus emerald green. Currently, they are embroiled in a debate about the lengths of veils. Angel is attempting to demonstrate with a bar towel and a long-suffering Dan from props.

Over the bar, Bradley and Katie are fighting over Bradley's usual mockery of anyone drinking anything other than lager (which, frankly, Colin thinks is hilarious, considering he has a strong suspicion that Bradley's main reason for drinking lager is that he can't handle anything stronger). Katie is pouring several different coloured alcoholic liquids into a tall glass. The drink is turning a rather alarming shade of purple. "A gin and tonic is the girliest drink ever, eh Bradley?"

"I am not drinking that." Colin nudges Angel and nods his head towards with a Bradley's horrified face with a grin. "It looks poisonous! Not to mention hideous."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Bradley," Katie says, rummaging under the bar, "I'll make it more appealing for you." She emerges and pops something into the glass, and pushes it under Bradley's nose. "There. Much better." Bradley's bright purple drink is now topped off with a fluorescent pink cocktail umbrella.

Angel bursts into laughter. "Go on, Bradley. Drink up."

"I am absolutely not going to drink that. Over my dead body."

Colin marvels at how Katie doesn't have to say anything -- instead, the quirk of her eyebrow clearly expresses "that can be arranged", or something of that ilk. "C'mon, Bradley," he says, unable to resist getting involved, "unless you don't think you can handle it?"

"A son of mine, defeated by a cocktail?" Tony roars from the other end of the bar in his best Uther voice. Colin notes the three empty pint glasses in front of him and marvels again at Tony's ability to down pints like they're going out of fashion. It has made for some interesting wrap parties.

"Oh, for crying out loud." Bradley says, rolling his eyes. He grasps the drink and sets his jaw determinedly. "Right." He brings the glass to his lips and drains it in one gulp. "There. Happy now?"

Tony thumps his palm onto the bar in applause. "Well done."

Colin thinks, for an alarming moment, that Bradley might be sick but he covers his mouth with his hand and shakes his head as if to clear a buzzing fly. "Oh God, McGrath," Bradley says, thickly. "That was beyond disgusting." He staggers over-exaggeratedly to the sofas and collapses opposite Colin and Angel. "And now, you bastards," he says, leaning forward and placing a hand on each of their knees, "it is your turn to suffer. One of those for everyone, Katie!"

Colin downs the rest of his gin and tonic grimly. He suspects it may be a long -- and messy -- night.

* * *

An hour and a half later and numbers are dwindling. Most of the crew disappear back to bed when reception inform them, apologetically, that the power will be out until an engineer can reach them at first light. Dan from props crashes out after glass three of Katie's deadly concoction, and snores gently on the sofa, completely oblivious to Katie delicately decorating his face with lipstick, and Bradley attempting to throw peanuts into his open mouth until a laughing Angel insists he stop for fear of Dan choking. Bradley has now moved on playing the same game with Colin, who is a rather more willing (and awake) participant.

"Open up, Morgan -- this is the one, it is definitely going in this time." The peanut bounces off Colin's forehead and left ear. "Oh, shit. Well. Serves you right for having such ridiculous ears."

Colin makes a face at him and retrieves the peanut from under the sofa. "Hey," he says, suddenly, "where are Richard and Mick?"

"They sloped off about twenty minutes ago..." Katie says, and bats her eyelashes licentiously.

"Probably tired," Angel says, solemnly.

"Oh, I'm sure they're going to bed for one reason or another," Bradley smirks. Colin is silent but a blush creeps to the tips of his ears and he rubs a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly. Bradley is always astonished at how much of a prude Colin can be. Must be Catholic guilt, he reasons. And it's hardly a bad thing, given how delightful he finds it when Colin goes a bit pink. "Oh, c'mon, Colin. As if you've never snuck off for a drunken--"

" _Snog_." Angel says, hurriedly coming to the rescue again.

"Snog." Bradley concurs. "Or, y'know. _Whatever._ "

Colin opens his mouth in protest. "I-- well, I mean-- obviously-- it's not like--"

Bradley guffaws. "As I suspected!"

"Oh, shut up, Bradley." Colin says, but his eyes are laughing. "I've never taken a crew member back to my _room_ , though."

Bradley immediately downs a gulp of his drink, as does Katie, and, after a moment's hesitation, Angel. Katie splutters, pointing and laughing at Angel. "You! You didn't tell me that! Who was it? Oh God," she hisses, "it wasn't _Dan_ , was it?"

Angel merely covers her face with her hands and giggles manically.

Colin looks baffled. "Er, did I miss something?"

"Oh, don't tell me you've not played 'I Have Never', Morgan? It's a drinking game."

Colin shakes his head. "Bradley, I went to university in Glasgow. We didn't need _games_ to drink. We just _drank_."

"And yet you're still such a lightweight. Okay, it's easy. Somebody makes a statement starting with 'I've never' and then you drink if you have, in fact, done that thing. So you said 'I've never taken a crew member back to my room' and apparently, Katie, Angel and I all have." Bradley pokes Angel in the stomach. "I'd expect it from Katie, the hussy, but _you_?"

Angel pokes her tongue out at him. "I am a grown woman, Bradley James, and more goes on in a grown woman's bedroom than _you_ will ever know."

Bradley laughs. "I would protest, but that is probably true."

"Okay, okay," Colin says, slowly, "I get it. So if I said 'I've never had a poster of Tony in my bedroom', Bradley would have to..."

"Morgan, you bastard." Bradley says, but he takes a drink obediently. "Yes, and if I said 'I have never cried whilst running lines, you would have to..."

Colin gives a long-suffering sigh before draining his glass. "Acting, Bradley. It's called acting."

"I asked YOU to run the lines, Morgan -- and you weren't even playing your own part!"

"Oh, I see how you want to play this one. Okay. I have never slept with an ex and then never spoken to her ever again."

Angel mock-gasps. "Bradley James, you didn't."

Bradley slowly raises his glass to his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices that Katie is sheepishly doing the same and resolves to use it as ammunition later -- but right now, Colin Morgan has his undivided attention. This is war.

"And I have never broken up with my boyfriend via _text message_." he says, leaning over to fill up Colin's tumbler. Assorted gasps from the girls as Colin quirks a smile and drinks.

"Fine, fine -- that's just fine." Colin says, pressing his fingertips together and leaning forward. "Okay, Bradley. I have never confessed that my greatest fear is a fear of the dark."

"Ohhhhhhh..." Katie breathes, and Angel stifles a giggle. "The dark? Big, macho Bradley James afraid of the dark?"

Bradley doesn't look away from Colin's eyes as he deliberately folds his arms and leans backwards in his seat.

"Oh, c'mon, James. The look on your face when you bumped into Tony tonight... you can't deny you're scared of the dark."

"Oh no, Colin," Bradley says, mildly. "In the spirit of the game, I am happy to be utterly frank with you and confess I am not too fond of the dark."

Katie mimes extinguishing the nearest gas lantern. "Oh no!" she says, throwing her hands in the air in mock horror and softening her accent to a fairly good mimicry of Bradley's, "the dahhk!"

Bradley chooses to ignore her.

"So why aren't you drinking, then?" Colin says, pushing Bradley's glass towards him.

"Because, young Morgan, you made the schoolboy error of qualifying your statement with the word 'greatest'. The dark is not my greatest fear."

"Oh?" Colin enquires, one eyebrow raising. "Then what is?"

"That," Bradley says, with finality, "is not part of the game. Now, Katie -- don't think I didn't notice you drinking back then. _I_ have never slept with an ex _of my own gender_ and then never spoken to them ever again... oh my God, McGrath, you naughty girl, you."

He pretends not to notice that Colin is still eyeing him, thoughtfully.

* * *

The last time Colin looked at his watch (and was actually able to make out the time) it was 3am, and that felt like hours ago. He is on glass A MILLION of Katie's evil concoction and he is no longer entirely sure that he can feel his own fingers. He has somehow managed to get Dan to bed, and has come back to the lounge to find Bradley looking vaguely nervous in the corner, and Katie and Angel sat on the sofa _crying_ on each other.

"Shit," he says, sidling up to Bradley, "what the fuck did you do?"

Bradley looks baffled. "I have no idea!" he hisses, out the corner of his mouth. "We were talking about TV shows! I have no idea where all this", he says, waving his hands around exaggeratedly and hiccuping, "...where this came from! But whatever you do, Morgan" -- he glances from side to side, shiftily -- " _don't let them hear you._ I only escaped a few minutes ago." He plucks at his t-shirt and Colin notices a large damp patch on the shoulder.

Katie's sobs are getting louder. "I've juss never-- ever-- a friend who jusss-- gets me, you know? But you! Angel... like an-- angel! An' you could have told me.. about Dan... I wouldn't have laughed... well... maybe a little bit..."

Colin snorts. Bradley shoots him a warning glance but it's too late -- Katie and Angel have spotted them. "Boys!" Angel cries, extending her arms to them. "Boysboysboys. C'mere, c'mere."

"Oh shit." Bradley laughs, and grabs Colin's wrist. "Run for your life, Morgan. Run!"

In Colin's inebriated state, Bradley's suggestion makes perfect sense, and before he knows where he is, he and Bradley are running down the corridors in the pitch black. Colin spends months of his life in this hotel, knows it like the back of his hand, has spent hours (mostly with Bradley) exploring every possible corner for mayhem and prank purposes, but in the dark, whilst stupidly pissed, it is easy to get lost. And lost they are. And in the dark. Something which seemingly escaped Bradley's notice whilst they were running, but now that they've slowed to a halt, appears to have caught up with him.

"Cols?" Bradley's voice doesn't sound like Bradley's voice, and Colin is hit with a rush of affection and guilt for having mocked him earlier. _The alcohol_ , he thinks, _must be the alcohol_ , because when did he ever feel bad for mocking Bradley? That's what they _did_. That's what their whole friendship is _based_ on. Well, that, and endless Mario Kart tournaments, and a mutual love/hate relationship with Joss Whedon productions, and the same style of working, and endless evenings spent watching movies and critiquing them long into the night even though they've got ridiculously early calls in the morning, and more inside jokes than Colin can count, and a theme song, and that odd tendency, that Colin tries not to think about lest doing so makes it go away, to somehow end up touching when drunk or tired or cold or fed up or... or like right now, Colin thinks, as he slips an arm around Bradley's shoulder.

"Y'alright, Bradley?" Colin slips his lighter out of his pocket and flicks it open. The flame barely illuminates Bradley's face, but Colin feels his shoulders relax a little, anyway, and he moves his arm away, his hand lingering on Bradley's back maybe a moment longer than necessary..

"What do you carry a lighter for, anyway, Morgan? You don't smoke."

"Never know when it'll come in handy." Colin shrugs.

"A regular boy scout." Bradley says, smiling at him fondly. It -- or the alcohol -- makes Colin feel a bit woozy. "Well, Bear Grylls, where are we?"

Colin lifts the lighter to illuminate the number on the door. "We're practically back at your room." he says, flicking out the light and moving to go. "C'mon, this way."

"Woah, woah, woah." Bradley says, and Colin suddenly feels a strong, warm hand clinging to his own. "I, um... don't want you getting... lost.. or..." Bradley's voice trails off, lamely.

Colin says nothing, but gives Bradley's hand an answering squeeze.

* * *

 _It's definitely the alcohol_ , Bradley thinks, once they're back at his room, _and the dark_. It's really rather unfair of Colin to take advantage of Bradley's fear of the dark. Because he would not be here otherwise, sat on his bed, drinking miniatures from the mini-bar and talking about nothing, and he definitely would not be finding himself completely and utterly distracted by the way the candlelight makes Colin's cheekbones look even more razor-sharp, and his mouth even more expressive, and his eyelashes even darker. Okay, so he has thought all these things before, but never all at once in such an overwhelming way. And the memory of the reassuring warmth of Colin's hand still lingers on his palm, between his fingers, and it's all just a heady combination designed to break down his carefully constructed walls and defences and really, Bradley thinks, it is not fair.

He's brought back to earth when Colin chuckles. "Can't believe you told the girls about the way I ended things with Luke."

Bradley grins. "Yeah. Er... sorry about that. I get a bit competitive at that game."

Colin gives a little mock gasp. "Bradley James, competitive? Surely not."

"Ha ha. Anyway," Bradley says, " _you_ told them about me being... a bit... not very fond of the dark."

Colin pats Bradley's knee. "You managed to wriggle your way out of that one quite nicely, James. Which reminds me... you never _did_ tell me about your greatest fear."

Bradley stiffens a little. The sensible, still sober part of him sends a very strong signal to his mouth to _stay shut_.

Unfortunately, thanks to Katie, it is really only a very tiny part, and therefore far too easy to ignore.

"It's about the show, I guess. About it ending. About what will happen next. I suppose..." he says, slowly, "that most of us are frightened about it. Not you, though."

"Not me? Why not me?"

"Oh, c'mon, Morgan. You've already done so much -- stage, and film. You've had such great reviews -- I've read them. You're going places. You must be excited about it."

Colin is silent for a moment. "Well, yeah. It is exciting. But that doesn't mean I'm not scared about it, Bradley. I am. But you should be excited too, y'know? You'll have tons of offers. You don't need to worry about that."

"Oh, I don't. Don't get me wrong," Bradley says with a small laugh, "it's not that I agree with you. But, you know -- going from one part to another, the uncertainty, that's all part of acting, right? I signed up for that. But I didn't sign up for... this." He waves his hand, vaguely.

"For what?"

"For this. For... something like this. Someone like you." The small, sober part is screaming at him to _shut up, shut the hell up_ , but it's too late, now. He's started it, and he can't help but let the next words come tumbling out in a rush. "I didn't know it would be so frightening to think about not working with someone who-- who just _gets_ you. Who just ends up being _part_ of you. I can't imagine doing this with anyone else. So I guess that's what I'm frightened of. That's my greatest fear. The day all this ends and I have to start something new, without... well. Without... my other half, I suppose. Without you."

For a few seconds, Bradley is convinced he's said too much and ruined everything, forever. But then Colin breaks the silence. "Y'know, when I first met you, Bradley, I thought you were the world's biggest prat. I thought, how on earth am I going to survive eight months a year in the company of this eejit?"

Bradley laughs, heartily. "Well, I thought I was going to have to hire an _interpreter_."

Colin smiles back at him, his eyes crinkling. "Yeah, yeah. Like I said. Eejit. But after a while... I dunno. It just works, doesn't it? We just work." He reaches out and takes Bradley's hand between his own. "Listen, Bradley... I don't know if I'm just... maybe I'm reading too much into things..."

"You're not." Bradley interjects, a sudden warmth flooding through his veins. "At least -- I don't think you are."

"Well... then maybe you don't need to worry about me not being there. Cos maybe... maybe I will be. If you want me to be."

The candle has almost gone out and the room is in near-darkness, but Bradley finds that he doesn't feel frightened, at all. He's only mildly surprised, though. He's too busy mentally listing the Top Five Ways He's About To Kiss Colin Morgan.

With a grin, he leans forward to start with number one.


End file.
